[ He's been called a dirty elda, a filthy creature of sin, but Will has never felt more sullied than when he's pulling his clothes on, desperately trying to ignore how satisfied he feels, low in the pit of his belly where arousal once sat. How is he supposed to feel about this in the future? What will happen if he wakes up tomorrow and craves the feeling of Louis's body inside of his again? His cheeks flush once more as he thinks about it. He can't even pull his coat up over his arms without remembering how Louis's hands felt against them, cradling his body, fucking deep and hard into him with reckless abandon.
Then he takes the door handle, and Louis says that, and Will — Will falters. Yet again. Maybe it's because he has yet to figure out what he expects from himself. ]
...I understand. I'll... I'll return when you call for me, Lord Louis.
[ He can't say the words without stumbling on them, but the truth is —
The truth is that he's eager to do it again, too. The truth is that he's not certain he won't be mewling at Louis's door before long, desperate for one more kiss, one more touch.
(He doesn't make it until Louis's next summons. Will makes up a pretense to sneak into Louis's office not two days afterward.) ]
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Then he takes the door handle, and Louis says that, and Will — Will falters. Yet again. Maybe it's because he has yet to figure out what he expects from himself. ]
...I understand. I'll... I'll return when you call for me, Lord Louis.
[ He can't say the words without stumbling on them, but the truth is —
The truth is that he's eager to do it again, too. The truth is that he's not certain he won't be mewling at Louis's door before long, desperate for one more kiss, one more touch.
(He doesn't make it until Louis's next summons. Will makes up a pretense to sneak into Louis's office not two days afterward.) ]
( continuation )